The Chronicles of Beast and Man

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The Chronicles of Beast and Man Page 9

by J. Charles Ralston


  When the short interview was over, Rod got on the phone and called John Austin. Rod did not want to do another interview, but felt the need to do it for the town since he did one of the local television reporter. No one probably would have cared if he had done an interview for the Medusa Gazette or not, but it felt like the right thing to do.

  Rod did not give a very good interview to either news source. He said things like, “I cannot speak for this person. My department is not yet ready to release that information, and that is still part of our ongoing investigation.” John seemed a little less pleased with his interview then Zoe Gilbert, but John had expected a lot more.

  After Rod was done dealing with the local media, he went back to the station house where he had planned to look over some of the details of the old Maxwell Hester murder. Before Rod was able to get very far into the report he received another call from Deputy Dolgen.

  Rod was expecting the worst; he had expected Thomas to tell him that they had found Ryan’s body and tell him it was mutilated like the others.

  Fortunately, that was not what Thomas had to tell him. He had only called to tell Rod that he and the other men were finally going to take a break for lunch. Rod thanked Thomas and told him to pass it on to the other men. He was very pleased with the amount of effort that were putting out to help, of course they all knew Ryan, and wanted the whole mess resolved.

  Once off the phone, Rod realized that he had not spoken to Donald Sims. He quickly relocated Donald’s number and called him again. There was no answer. It was obvious that he was going to have to go to Donald’s farm and speak to him in person.

  Without any more hesitation, Rod went to his truck and began to drive in the direction of Sims’ farm. As he drove he thought about Maxwell Hester, Gabrielle Parker, and Duane Ensig. Those names had consumed his waking hours, and as of recently most of his dreams and his nightmares.

  Freddy Alexander and Tyler Zeal felt stuffed after eating their home style cheeseburgers from the Main Street Café. Now they were on their way to the city of Webster again. This time they had one main objective: Spend money on soda pop, Snickers bars, and the latest issue of Game Machine (a magazine with information that would make any video gamer salivate).

  On their way they discussed several different topics from games, movies, and comic books. But the one thing they both did not discuss was the thing in the back of both of their minds.

  They both had given it a great deal of thought and each had their own ideas about it being connected to the murders, but neither one would speak of it. Though they both wanted to talk, neither could bring themselves to do so. It was as if what they saw was so inconceivable, so unbelievable, so horrifying, that there were no words they could use to justify what they thought they saw. Freddy decided randomly to have a little fun with his friend and pressed down hard on the gas pedal. Freddy’s car was by no means a hot rod, or a sports car, but he liked the excitement of driving at a high rate of speed down curvy, country roads. He enjoyed the rush that it gave him. He liked watching Tyler squirm as he did so too. The car moved at a rapid speed through the country side. It was obvious that he was making Tyler very nervous.

  "Slow down a little bit man." Tyler protested.

  "Slow what down?"

  To Freddy it was all just a bit of harmless fun. The car rapidly moved around the wide curve and when they came to the next road, the two young men were taken by surprise when they saw four vehicles parked at the edge of the Lovett property. Two of these vehicles were police cars, Freddy slammed down on his brakes throwing their heads forward in the process.

  It was then that they noticed four men walking out of the timber and moving across the field.

  "What is going on?" Tyler asked aloud.

  "I can take a guess."

  "You think it happened again?"

  "What do you think?" Freddy asked as they continued to watch the men pace across the field.

  None of the men seemed to notice the two boys driving by, they were consumed by something else.

  "We need to do something!" Freddy exclaimed

  "Like what?" Tyler asked.

  "I don’t know, but I am afraid that we are the only ones who know what is really going on here."

  "I think you are right, but what do we do, have a composite sketch made of the Wolf-man so the entire town can laugh at us? No one will ever believe us!" Tyler said in a greatly frustrated voice.

  "I know, I know. I am just worried that by the time someone else does know what is going on, it will be too late."

  "You are probably right. I just don’t know what to do."

  In that moment Freddy felt hopeless.

  It took a great deal of looking, but Rod finally found Donald in a large barn on the property. Donald had been tending to an old horse, whose glory days were long gone. Rod explained the bizarre situation to Donald, who was sympathetic and permitted him and his men to search the property. Donald did request that if any remains were found, that he not see them, and they not tell him where the remains were found. He didn’t want him or any of his family to connect a certain spot to an incident as awful as this. Rod respected Donald’s wishes and told him he would follow them exactly.

  "I’ll be keeping my shotgun a little closer to me from now on. It is one thing when animals are coming up slaughtered, but when people start getting killed it is another." Donald said fearfully.

  The statement confused Rod, so he asked Donald for an explanation. Donald then told him that every once in a great while an animal would turn up dead. Once he found a deer out in the timber completely torn apart, another time he found a fox ripped in half. On two different occasions he had found his own livestock dead.

  Rod’s thoughts went right back to the Welker family dog. Rod was now getting a greater sense of a connection than he had before. Not only did he feel a connection between Zero and the recent murders, he was also feeling a connection between all of this and the murder from fives ago. The idea of the same creature causing all of this violence was starting to make more and more sense. But why would it have been dormant for so long?

  Could it have been just picking away at wild animals, livestock, and household pets?

  If this were so, why would the thing suddenly decide to start attacking humans again?

  Donald had very little more to say, he was obviously busy with his sick horse and needed to tend to it.

  Rod was late to go and have lunch at his mom’s, he would just have to go home and make himself something to eat. Rod was not exactly a world class chef, he would have to make a ham sandwich or a bowl of Campbell’s soup.

  As he drove down Main Street he couldn’t help but notice Marcy walking out of the Main Street Café.

  Must be break time. Rod thought to himself.

  Marcy looked in Rod’s direction and gave him a quick little wave. Rod of course returned the gesture. With those gestures Rod felt his heart beat quicken, he felt it weaken as well. Part of him wanted to park the truck, grab her by the hand and tell her he loved her. He wanted to tell her to leave her husband and be with him. He visualized it in a very cinematic fashion, if only…if only.

  Rod knew that wasn’t possible and such an act would have been foolish. So instead, he continued driving. Things had become so strange. Rod had begun to feel like a different person living the life he once knew. It was as if he had seen so many people die around him, that he himself felt as if he were dying inside. While still thinking about how things were changing, he parked his truck, got out, and moved toward the house.

  This whole mess needs to end. I need to make it end. I can’t keep letting this happen. I want my life back. I want to see Marcy. Rod thought to himself, and for a moment he felt guilty about thinking only of himself. He quickly moved to feelings of satisfaction when he confirmed with himself that he did care for the people of Medusa. He did not want another innocent life destroyed-it was terrible and unnecessary.

  Rod began to slap some mayonnaise on a slice of bread, t
hen flung on a piece of ham, and then a slice of cheese. Once the sandwich was finished, he hadn’t taken more than a bite when he felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket.

  It was a text message from Marcy.

  Marcy: I MISS YOU!

  Without haste he typed a text back, and sent it: I MISS YOU TOO!

  He did not want to write this to her, he wanted to write to her about all the things he would like to do to her. He wanted to express how much he wanted to rip her panties off and grab ahold of her tight, bare ass. He was sure that she wanted to have just as much human touch as he did. They had gone from meeting two or three times a week to suddenly not meeting at all. Rod knew that he was to blame. He knew that he had become consumed by the mess around him and had put her off to the side.

  But damn it: he sought answers, he needed answers. Why had these terrible things happened in Medusa? Why had it happened on his watch and what was he going to have to do to fix it?

  Rod sat down and lost himself in a long moment of deep contemplation, when suddenly his phone rang. It was Deputy Dolgen.

  "Boss, it would seem that we located Ryan Lovett."

  "And?" Rod asked, doubting that they found him alive.

  "It isn’t good," said Dolgen. Rod thought for a moment that he could hear one of the men getting sick in the background.

  "Where did you find him?"

  "He’d been stuffed in a hollowed out tree." Deputy Dolgen said quietly as if someone might hear him.

  "Okay, I meant WHERE did you find him?" Rod asked restating his question, yet confused by the information Thomas gave him.

  "We found him on Donald Sims’ property, boss."

  "I’ll be out there with the coroner right away. Prep the area and keep a man there at all times." Rod said as he took off out the door.

  Evan Wilson sat in his office sliding a long, thin tong into a large glass bottle. He slowly positioned another piece of the model wooden ship he was working on. This was the second ship in a bottle he had attempted to construct. This project seemed a bit more complicated than the last. Evan’s cell phone began to ring loudly.

  He glanced down from the model to see the screen on his phone light up with the name “Sheriff Truex.” Evan immediately did not want to answer the phone, not only because he knew what the Sheriff’s call would more than likely be about, but because he had been working on this project for so long and didn’t want to stop.

  Finally he gave up and let the piece of the boat crumble, and answered the phone.

  "I was really hoping I wouldn’t be getting a call from you today." Evan said disappointedly.

  "I take it you have heard about our missing person?" Rod then asked.

  "Yes, yes I did."

  "I’ll need you out at Donald Sims' farm as soon as possible."

  "Okay, I’ll see you there." Evan said regrettably.

  -

  Evan was soon there with the ambulance and EMTs as well. Shortly after he arrived, Rod asked Donald if he would keep the whole matter quiet. Donald agreed to do so.

  With that said, it was time to investigate the scene, which was not close by at all. They walked half a mile before they found the hollowed out tree and the search party standing about.

  Neither Rod nor Evan had expected to see the look of dread and sadness that was upon the mens’faces. All four of these young men seemed completely traumatized. Both Rod and Evan had an idea of what they would see: it couldn’t be any more hideous then the Parker girl, or Duane Ensig, or the Maxwell Hester murder for that matter.

  Rod looked inside the hollowed out tree at the same time as Evan. What they saw was a gruesome, blood-filled display of torn flesh, and missing organs. Rod had been wrong to think that he knew what to expect. This was different, whatever did this had taken its time, it had torn every bit of flesh apart so it could feast away at free-will. It was then that Rod noticed the gnawing and scrapes upon the bones.

  Rod backed away feeling a bit light headed. Lucky for him Deputy Dolgen firmly grabbed him by the arm. Thomas had not done this to catch him; it had just worked out that way. He had grabbed Rod by the arm so he could pull him off to the side to speak to him.

  "Rod!" Thomas said when he noticed that the sheriff didn’t look well. "Rod, are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I will be fine."

  "What did this?"

  Rod nodded his head in response.

  "No, that is not going to cut it, chief. This wasn’t done by a man or coyote. Some kind of monster did this. Its paw prints are all over the area."

  "I don’t know what it is."

  "You are serious?"

  Rod once again nodded, he was only now beginning to feel better. He realized suddenly that he had to regain control of the situation.

  "Listen, I don’t know what it is that is doing these terrible things. We have to pull together and figure it out."

  "Maybe we should get assistance from the FBI or at least the state boys." Dolgen said in reference to the State Police.

  "No, I am not turning this over to an outside agency. I want you to talk to these men that were here today. Keep them quiet, I don’t need any of them running around flapping their jaws."

  Thomas agreed with Rod, and walked back to the group.

  Rod walked away and popped a stick of mint flavored gum into his mouth. His stomach was still rumbling. He was completely certain that this was the work of something more than human. Could there be a human element involved as well? Either way, he was going to have to look at everything and everyone a little differently.

  -

  After inspecting the scene of the crime, Rod walked back to his truck and called the police station. Arnold quickly answered the phone.

  "Arnie, I have some bad news."

  "Give it to me, chief." Arnold said boldly.

  "I thought it might be better if you hear this from me. Ryan Lovett is dead."

  "How?"

  "Something got him, whatever it was, tore him up pretty bad. I am really sorry bud." Rod always called men Bud when trying to comfort them.

  "Like the others?"

  "Just like the others." Rod answered.

  "Okay Chief, is there anything else that I should know?"

  "Not right now."

  Arnold hung up the phone. Rod had a feeling that Arnold would have a very hard time grieving. Rod had grown sick of this, he was sick of all the dying that was taking place around him. He was sick of telling people he knew that their loved ones were dead. It was time for it to end.

  Rod jumped a little when his phone rang from an unexpected phone call.

  -

  Around the same time that Rod and Evan gazed down at the remains of Ryan Lovett, Matthew Russell was sitting in his office. He was going through blueprint after blueprint. It had been a long month and his company had two different projects that needed to be done before any serious winter weather began. It did not appear that he was going to get much of a warning as for when the really nasty weather would hit. It was expected any time, December was right around the corner after all.

  Matthew stepped away from his blueprints, he had to take a moment for himself. He felt the stress beginning to wear on him. Most of the time he didn’t get all that worked up, but the jobs he had going on at this time were a little different. They both were for the state and if he didn’t have them completed it would be a huge disappointment, and Matthew would be left looking like a fool. In frustration he sat down and ran his fingers through his slick black hair. He needed something to take his mind off of work, even if only for five minutes. Matthew began looking around the office until he noticed an envelope sitting by itself on the corner of his desk. It was the latest cell phone bill He thought he might as well take a look at it. He could make sure they weren’t being billed for things they didn’t need, or didn’t have. Matthew tore open the envelope and began to look the bill over. Everything seemed normal; he saw nothing that would cause alarm. Then he flipped over to the other side to see the cell phone records. It was no
t long before Matthew noticed an odd trend. It was a reoccurring cell phone number that Matthew did not recognize. The unknown number had contacted Marcy on several occasions by way of text messages.

  What the hell is this? Matthew asked himself.

  Marcy is talking to another man, Marcy is cheating on me. Those were the first thoughts that sprang up in his head. Matthew was immediately furious, he stood up and began pacing around the room.

  Wait, no. There has to be another answer. Marcy would not cheat on me; there is nothing wrong with our marriage. Besides, wouldn’t she be smart enough to hide the records a little bit better? Then again how could she? The cell phone records have been coming to my office since we got cell phones.

  Matthew had to figure out whose number it was, then he would be able to understand the situation better. He then realized that the number could just belong to one of her friends. This idea did not linger in Matthew’s head for very long, he recognized all of her friends’ numbers. Matthew did not consider himself a stalker and he didn’t try and keep track of his wife. He had just seen her friends’ phone numbers enough that he knew them when he saw them.

  Matthew knew he had a couple of options: he could either go through the cell phone company and try and have them tell him who the number belongs to. Or he could ask someone at the police department if they can track down the owner of the number. He could also start off his search by going straight to the source and simply call the unknown number. Matthew thought a great deal about these options. Then he picked up his cell phone and punched in the unknown number, without another thought he pressed send. That was when his phone acknowledged the number as Rod Truex’s cell. Matthew saw the name pop up as the phone on the other side began to ring. At first Matthew was shocked; he had no idea what he would say when Rod’s voice answered. He wondered if Rod would have his number stored in his phone as well. Rod and Matthew were not what you would call friends by any means, but as a local businessman in town he had at one point acquired the Sheriff’s phone number.

 

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